Kimchi Chronicles: Lunch Break
Everywhere in Jeollanamdo, between 12 and 2 pm, offices, clinics, factories, construction sites, schools, stores, hair salons, you name it, break for 30-45 minutes to have lunch.
It’s a practice I initially considered old fashioned. A thing of the past. Something my parents would talk about “back in the day.” It contradicts the go! Go! GO! city-vibes to which I’m accustomed. And the 빨리빨리! (bali bali) - go quickly! - work ethic that very easily describes Korean culture.
I’m not sure if this is just a country-thing, a practice of traditional life that’s survived the rapid modernization of this country, or if big cities like Seoul and Daegu also partake. Either way, it’s a convention I’ve grown to appreciate quite a lot.
Energetically speaking, it brings a different vibe. While the concept is simple, it has meaningful nuances suggesting:
“We demand the full attention of your time and energy but in this hour, we acknowledge your humanity. Take a moment to nourish yourself and rejuvenate.”
반찬 (banchan - side dish) is a common, traditional Korean meal featuring different kinds of kimchi, salads, and dried seafood. Though banchan can comprise the entire meal, it’s often accompanied with a main dish such as grilled fish, meat or stew.
Lunchtime is also a great example of the social hierarchy and collective aspects of Korean society.
When lunch hour strikes and the boss has decided everyone should now break for a meal (because hierarchy rules and manners say you must wait for permission - even if a typical standard has been established) everyone leaves the office together and heads to the cafeteria (or local restaurant) and eats together.
Each level in the hierarchy will have its designated table and seat, with the highest-ranking individual getting first dibs. The hierarchy is dictated by both age and position, and can sometimes contradict itself. For example, in schools, there is often an 아저씨 (ahjoshi - grown man, uncle) who looks after the school grounds and is the eldest staff member. But the Principle, Vice Principle and Head Teacher are the highest-ranking positions.
In the middle school I worked during my first year in Korea, the grade 3s and eldest of the students (equivalent to Canadian grade 9 students), were first in line to receive their meals. Then the grade 2 students followed by the grade 1s. If the grade 3s were late, as a sign of respect and to acknowledge their rank in the school, the younger students would wait outside the cafeteria even if it meant delaying everyone from getting fed.
And then, of course, you have colleagues you really don’t want to eat with, including your boss! (No different than back home.) Once again, respect dictates that if you are younger, have less seniority, or are in a lower position, you must eat with your senior counterpart unless they have given you permission to do something different.
It can be a tricky dance. And doesn’t always follow logic by Western standards but it is what it is.
Everyone eats together. There is no work being done. No one is excluded. No one can choose to be excluded either because that would upset the collectiveness. Regardless of their position in life or in the company, Koreans break bread together.
I believe it’s meant to be a daily peace offering. A reminder that even though every aspect of Korean society is dictated by this intense hierarchy, we are in this together.
In theory, I like it. Those in higher positions, or of greater age, are intended to take those below them under their wing. It fosters team spirit and community values.
Unfortunately, the reality isn’t as wholesome as all that.
The one-directional flow of power and the social stigma for standing up for yourself or even setting boundaries (because that would cross the lines of what is considered respectful) breeds bullies, mean girls, egomaniacs and chauvinists at a shocking rate. It very much contradicts my innate feminism and the zero-tolerance for bullying I grew up with.
If you get stuck in a situation where your colleague is one of the above and societal laws have granted that person the power in the relationship, it can have massive negative effects on your mental, physical and emotional health.
Then you have to eat with that person too?!
That’s a tough pill to swallow, man. I write from experience.
Kimchi Chronicles are stories and memories collected while living in the rural village of Beolgyo and country-side city of Gwangyang, South Korea.